


Alcohol is a funny thing

by bloodyinspiredd



Category: The Maze Runner RPF
Genre: Birthday Party, Drunkenness, Love Confessions, M/M, Smut and Fluff, a bit of angst, actually it's light smut and i don't even know if that's a thing, drunk dylan, dylmas - Freeform, okay I'm gonna stop I'm really bad at tagging, slightly drunk thomas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-03
Updated: 2016-01-03
Packaged: 2018-05-11 09:37:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5622610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodyinspiredd/pseuds/bloodyinspiredd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alcohol makes you do crazy stuff like dancing naked, saying things you don't really mean or sleeping with your best friend, so Dylan wouldn't be surprised if Thomas told him it was a mistake. Also, he wouldn't be so surprised if he had to fake it didn't mean a thing to him, so both could agree to pretend nothing happened, even if a lot happened, all for their friendship's sake.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Afraid of losing him

**Author's Note:**

> This was my first attempt at writing in English (my first language is Spanish). I wrote this a while ago and published it on Wattpad, but I wanted to post it here since I remembered I have an account lol Besides, there aren't many dylmas stories here, so...   
> Anyways, sorry if there are any mistakes, I tried my best. Let me know what you think, feedback is always appreciated :)   
> Hope you like it!

His hazel eyes were looking at the front door, waiting almost impatiently for the familiar head of dirty blonde hair to make its appearance. And he couldn't find it anywhere, which wasn't good at all. 

He had made sure of inviting Thomas to his birthday party; and Thomas said yes instantly, his voice sounding so happy through the phone line that Dylan could've sworn to see that bright and contagious smile of his. Also, Dylan could've sworn to feel his heart beating faster inside his ribcage and his stomach becoming a knot every time Thomas laughed; the feeling was nice, but it was not welcomed because he just shouldn't feel that way towards his friend—a really, really close friend. 

"Hey, are you okay?" Tyler asked him at his right side while pouring himself a drink in a red plastic cup.

"Umm, yes," Dylan answered, his eyes going from side to side across the room, and for a second they stopped at the boy next to him. 

He leaned onto the crystal table of the dining room where they put the drinks and snacks. The dining room was next to the living room and he could watch directly from there at the front door of the apartment he shared with his best friend, Tyler. Then, he looked down and sighed. 

"You've been here for about ten minutes, you know? Everyone's having fun while you're just standing there, looking at the door waiting for... whatever you're waiting for," said Tyler before taking a sip of his drink and stuffing some chips into his mouth. "And dude, honestly, you look desperate." 

All Dylan did was roll his eyes.

"Seriously," Tyler added, "are you waiting for someone?"

"No? Of course not," Dylan lied, and God, he was such a terrible liar.

"Okay, I'm going to give you some advice; you really need to work on the lying thing," Tyler replied in a mocking tone and grinned at Dylan's annoyed expression.

"Alright, let me give you some advice too," said Dylan, looking straight at Tyler with a sarcastic smile. "Stop asking stupid questions."

Tyler snorted and drank from his cup. He stared at Dylan for a while like he was trying to read the boy's thoughts and understand what he was so worried about. Suddenly it all became clear and he raised his eyebrows with realization, almost choking on his drink.

"This is about Thomas, that's what got you worried!" 

"Please, speak a little louder. I think the neighbors didn't hear you," Dylan answered. He tried to look irritated, but it was difficult not to laugh. "And I'm not worr—"

"Oh, c'mon! I already told you you're not good at lying." 

Dylan looked at the table, seeing his feet through the cold glass beneath his hands. He hesitated for a little bit and sighed. "I don't think it's necessary to tell you, right?" Tyler shook his head. "Fuck, I just want to share this night with him. That's all."

"Are you going to spend all your life secretly loving him?" 

"What?" Dylan inquired between laughter. "One, I don't love him."

There were seconds of silence after Dylan spoke, and he kept looking at Tyler with a half annoyed expression; the other half just wanted to crack a smile at his friend's words and face. 

"Is there a number two? 'Cause then it doesn't make sense if you say 'one'."

"Shut up, you idiot," Dylan said while shaking his head and laughing at his friend.

"You, my friend, are deeply in love with that Thomas guy," stated Tyler, pointing at his best friend's face with his index finger before drinking what was left in his plastic cup. "Seriously, in all our years of friendship I have never, ever, seen you like this for a man. And I say never, ever, because you never told me anything and I had no idea that you were gay or something. Well, until I knew about the whole Thomas thing." 

"I'm not gay, Tyler," Dylan declared for the thousandth time since he opened up to him about his feelings. "Trust me, me being like this for a man it's something that never crossed my mind before. I don't know how it happened, but— but I like Thomas... I like him a lot." His voice got lower and lower. His pupils were focused on the table again and his fingertips tapped on the glass as a way to distract himself.

"Just... Just tell him. That's all you need to do." 

"Oh, yeah! Never thought of it before. He'll tell me he feels the same way and we'll live happily ever after, that's for sure!" replied Dylan in a sarcastic manner; Tyler's words seemed to be a bad joke to him. 

"Dylan." His friend started, face softening and voice sounding serious about what he was going to say. "You won't lose anything. Tell him, he might feel the same. Even if things don't turn out the way you want, at least you can know you tried."

"I can lose something. His friendship, for example." 

"Man, if you never try, you'll never know!" 

"I'm afraid of losing him..." Dylan admitted. He looked hopeless as he talked about the boy he liked, or rather, loved. "I mean, if I can't have him as something else, not having him as a friend would be, definitely, the worst thing that could happen to me."

"C'mon, you know Thomas is not like that." Dylan gulped meanwhile he listened to Tyler, his eyes scanning the room he had in front and his mind thinking of the different situations that could happen once he confessed his love to Thomas. Damn, almost all of them ended in a total mess. "Life's all about taking risks. That's the fun of it, isn't it?" 

"I'll think about it."

"Just— Just don't think about it for more than a year, okay?" Dylan rolled his eyes. Whenever he had this kind of conversations with Tyler, he would roll his eyes more times than he should. But it was okay; he loved that dumb, goofy, smiley guy that always knew how to cheer him up. 

Dylan nodded, a tiny smile being painted upon his lips, and went back to gaze at the door, his short nails clacking on the crystal table. 

"Alright, now that is settled, you really need a drink," Tyler said as he took a clean red plastic cup and poured some liquid unknown to Dylan because the boy wasn't paying attention. "Here." 

"What's this?" He asked, analyzing the cup and its content. The smell of alcohol was strong once he put the cup close to his mouth and nose.

"Alcohol. What else could it be?" 

"But, I need to know what I'm drin—"

"Dude! Just drink and come to party with us. Thomas will come eventually, you'll see. You need to enjoy and relax, it's your birthday for God's sake!" Tyler shouted in his usual cheerful voice.

Dylan couldn't help glancing at the door one more time, thinking about just staying there and declining on his friend's offer. But then he thought that Thomas could possibly arrive late or he just wouldn't arrive, and it wasn't worth standing there all night while everyone was having fun at his own birthday party. Tyler was right, it was his birthday and he should be partying, not waiting impatiently for someone who might not come. 

He swallowed a good amount of alcohol; it tasted like vodka but he wasn't sure. A burning sensation made its way through his throat, flowing down until it faded. 

"That's what I'm talking about! Let's go have some fun." Dylan smiled, and although he hoped Thomas would come soon, he decided to put all his thoughts about the blonde boy aside and go have some real fun.


	2. One of my best mates

After two drinks, Dylan was doing fine. He laughed at silly things with his closest friends and started to forget about Thomas and what bothered him not so long ago. Three drinks later, the effects of alcohol started to kick in, dizziness clouding his mind and making every single thing seem funny. He didn't even think of Thomas or how he was waiting for him to arrive, or how much he likes the guy. Any of these thoughts didn't cross his mind until he heard Tyler shouting happily at the front door.

"Finally! A certain someone thought you'd never come," said his best friend. He must've been speaking very loud because his voice was clearly heard over the music—and the music was loud too, Dylan was sure about that.

Holland was talking to him about some boy she had a fling with, but Dylan lost track of the conversation from the moment he knew who was the person that had arrived. His thick english accent and slightly deep voice was heard through the room, getting closer and closer as Dylan was doing his best to pay attention to the girl in front of him. He felt a tap on his left shoulder, and even though he was a little drunk, he knew that his heart banging against his chest wasn't because of the alcohol. So he turned around and found the familiar head of dirty blonde hair he was looking for an hour ago. 

"Happy birthday!" shouted Thomas with a wide smile upon his face. He sounded so happy and spoke almost in the same tone he did through the phone a couple days ago. Dylan couldn't find a correct answer, although a "thank you" would've been a good one, but he just couldn't make his brain work properly; maybe it was the alcohol or maybe it was the boy in front of him who disconnected his body from his brain and made him feel like the words got caught in his throat. 

"Umm, h-hey," Dylan stuttered and felt so stupid for giving such an answer like that. He smiled and Thomas took a step forward, putting his arms around his body to hug him. Dylan hugged back instantly, the scent of the older one—a mixture of the perfume he always wore and nicotine—filling his nostrils and making him feel at home. It was always like that: every time Dylan was in Thomas' arms, he felt at home... even if he was already there. "Thank you."

They separated and looked at each other's eyes, and Dylan wondered if it was possible to feel so happy just by seeing someone smile. But it was possible, because Thomas had that power over him. 

"Sorry I'm late. I had a problem at the airport this afternoon and..." Thomas stopped talking and licked his lips—a bad habit of him. "Whatever. I'm sorry, Dyl." 

But Dylan didn't care at all, he just grinned at the boy who was a bit taller than him. "It's okay. You came, that's all that matters." 

"Anyway, I brought you something. Don't know if it was the best choice, but I hope you like it." He pulled a small package from behind his back, and Dylan asked himself about how he didn't see it when they hugged. 

"Wow. Thanks, man, you didn't have to," Dylan said with a smile. He took the small rectangular box in his hands; it was narrow, blue and had a ribbon on top. 

"Oh, no. It's okay, anything for one of my best mates." 

'Best mate... right,' Dylan thought, his heart sinking a little when those words went through his ears. He stared at the box and suddenly he didn't want to open it. Maybe he would the next day, while he was alone or something.

"Are you going to open it now?" Thomas asked. And it wasn't exactly because he was eager for his friend to see his present, it was just because Dylan was staring at it with lost eyes, perhaps way too deep in thought.

"What? Oh, no. I think I'll open it later." Dylan had a less genuine smile on his face, finding it hard to feel as happy as he felt only minutes ago. He couldn't believe how something so little could affect him that much, but at the same time he knew why; he considered telling Thomas about his feelings towards him and it was just a big mistake to think it'd be a good idea. 

Thomas frowned at the younger boy, not understanding his sudden change of mood. Yes, it was visible to him, even if Dylan thought he had fooled him. "Okay. Umm... I'm going to get something to drink." And Dylan nodded then turned around quickly, making his way through the hallway to his bedroom. He still felt dizzy, but it wasn't enough. He definitely needed another drink to forget about all the things that made him sad. 

He tossed the box to his bed without minding if it fell there or on the floor. After that, he started pacing through the room, trying to calm down the urge to scream or break something; he felt so dumb just for thinking that Thomas would actually return his feelings. He sat down on the floor, back resting on one of the walls, and embraced his legs trying to soothe himself. After a few minutes, he got up and took a deep breath, deciding he'd drink so much that everything would be okay again. He couldn't care less if Thomas was there to see him drunk off his ass, he just wanted to feel happy like before the boy arrived. 

Back at the living room, a lot of his friends were dancing. They had moved the furniture and made some sort of dance floor. The lights were off and the colorful ones Tyler bought last year were on, twinkling all over the room and giving it a disco vibe. Also, the music was louder and Dylan was surprised that the neighbors hadn't complained about it yet. 

Dylan headed to the dining room to drink some vodka or whatever was left inside of the bottles. He found vodka, but not a clean plastic cup, so he chose to drink from the bottle; besides, it'd help him reach his goal of getting drunk and forgetting about every thing. Then he went back to the living room—now dance floor—and sat down on the couch, gulping the transparent alcoholic liquid and watching his friends having fun while he was trying to do the same. Thomas was there too, dancing with Kaya to an electro song, and though Dylan knew Kaya had a boyfriend, actually, fiancé, he couldn't help feeling jealousy emerging from somewhere inside of him. 

'What the fuck is wrong with me,' he thought. 'I shouldn't be jealous of Kaya. They're friends, that's all.'

But the thing is, even if they were just friends, Dylan wanted to be her. He wanted to be the one dancing with Thomas as he enjoyed the sound of his laughter or saw his beautiful smile that showed off his pearly white teeth. He wanted to stare at those brown piercing eyes and get lost into them. But, unfortunately, all he could do was drink until he was incapable of thinking straight—no pun intended. 


	3. Heyyy... You wanna dance?

"Hey, you alright there?" the British boy asked him, sitting down by his side with a red plastic cup in his hand and a frown on his face. Dylan was distracted with his own thoughts, but they weren't precisely the soberest. He had been there for several minutes, maybe half an hour, drinking from the crystal bottle that was almost full not so long ago—now it was nearly empty; one more sip and the liquor would be gone. "Dylan?"

"What?" Dylan snapped. He didn't mean to sound like that, but something in his mind wasn't working right. He felt angry, but not at Thomas, he was just angry because Thomas would never love him back, because he was a total coward for not telling him about his feelings, or just because he was drinking his anger, sadness and frustration away. He was drinking his love for Thomas away. 

"N—nothing... Sorry," said Thomas, his voice sounding confused and hurt. He knew something was up with Dylan since he noticed how he passed from being all smiles and laughs to have a fake grin upon his lips and eyes looking at the package in his hands intensely; Thomas knew that Dylan was just trying to avoid his gaze.

Thomas gulped and put the cup on the floor next to the couch, so no one could kick it and spill over the liquid left in it. He played with his feet and hands, looking everywhere but at the brunette next to him. Dylan realized about what he had done, so he quickly swallowed the alcohol left in the bottle, then put it down on the floor. He stared at Thomas, feeling tipsy and trying to think of any words to say because he needed to apologize for snapping at him. It wasn't Thomas' fault. It was Dylan's fault for falling for the Brit boy with dirty blonde hair and mesmerizing brown eyes. It was Dylan's fault for not telling him about it. It was all Dylan's fault, that was the only thought he had in mind. 

Thomas sighed and got up, but Dylan grabbed his hand just in time and made him stop. "Tommy... I'm sorry," he slurred, and didn't realize until now how difficult it was to do a simple action as talking. Thomas turned around and looked at him, a smile cracking on his face and a gleam in his eye. He sat down again and never let go of Dylan's hand; he thought the boy wouldn't mind if he held it for a while. 

"You're drunk as fuck," Thomas stated and Dylan laughed. 

"Nahh, I'm— I'm not. I'm okay." 

Thomas didn't know why, but he found the boy's expressions adorable. He never had the chance to see him drunk, and fuck, he was adorable. Though it wasn't an "adorable" friendly way, it was something else. And when he looked straight into those hazel eyes, it was like a million butterflies fluttering in his stomach. Nevertheless, it wasn't a bad feeling, it felt good and made him feel all fuzzy inside. And even if he knew he should care about that feeling because maybe it wasn't right to feel it, he didn't. 

"Yeah, of course you are," Thomas answered with a roll of his eyes. "Then I guess you're feeling better now?" 

"Yup. Much better," Dylan replied, his words still slurring. He got closer to the blonde boy, and they still had a hold of each other's hands. The warmth of their skins felt good; it was a really nice feeling from such a simple gesture. 

"Dyl, how much did you drink?"

"I— I dunno..." And then he giggled. Thomas thought he was like a little kid and loved the way his eyes sparkled when he smiled. He wasn't so surprised for admiring the boy's beauty 'cause he always did, but he tried for a long time to push those feelings aside thinking that Dylan wouldn't return them back. And it wasn't like he was sure that Dylan felt the same, he just thought it would be a good moment to just enjoy being next to him the way he had always wanted because the boy was so drunk that he wouldn't remember anything the morning after. 

They stared at each other. Thomas observed the way Dylan's cheeks gained a pink color and Dylan was enchanted with Thomas' features and the way he was looking at him. Dylan was drunk, but even in that state of intoxication he was able to be delighted by the feeling Thomas was giving him with just a single look and the grip of his hand. It felt like a dream, those kind of dreams you never want to wake up from. 

"Heyyy... You wanna dance?" Dylan asked still having a hard time pronouncing his words. Thomas wanted to say yes, but thought that the boy couldn't even stand on his feet.

"Are you sure you wanna stand up? I don't think it's a good ide—"

"Absolutely!" Dylan shouted without being aware of the volume of his own voice. Thomas watched him standing up, hands on his hips and a huge smile on his lips. He shook his head and couldn't help laughing at the drunken boy, then he got up as well and stood by his side. "Shall we?," the brunette asked in a tone that made Thomas giggle. 

Thomas nodded and took the hand that Dylan was offering, then he was guided through the small group of people. Dylan stopped next to Tyler and said something in his ear, followed by laughter from both boys. After that, Tyler disappeared and Dylan approached Thomas. "Well, are we going to dance or not?" the blonde boy asked.

"Uh—huh. Just wait a sec!" And it took literally a second. The music changed abruptly and another electro song played, though it seemed to be Dylan's favorite song or something. The boy had a huge grin on his face and started to dance so clumsily that it was inevitable not to laugh at him. "Well, are you gonna dance or nah?" he spoke over the music. 

Thomas nodded with a smile and began to move to the rhythm of the fast melody, getting closer and closer to Dylan. At first it was all innocent and appeared to be just two friends having a good time. Thomas threw his head back laughing when Dylan made some weird moves, and he didn't care if the guy was drunk because he was acting the same way as usual. What made it all different was that by the time the song changed, a sexier one played through the speakers. And of course, the atmosphere changed too—at least it changed for them. 

Dylan got closer than ever to Thomas, his hands grabbing him by the waist and his hot breath hitting directly on his neck.

Thomas wanted to say something, anything, but the words just didn't come out. He just decided to enjoy the moment, to take pleasure in the way Dylan started to leave soft kisses on the crook of his neck while he was grinding on him, touching the younger's back, feeling the heat of his skin over the thin material of his t-shirt.

Thomas internally thanked the person who had turned the lights off, and God, he wanted to get the most out of the moment 'cause the alcohol was the reason Dylan acted like that—or that was what he believed.


	4. Wondering

A pair of lips moving against the other's skin. Dylan travelled Thomas' body with soft and wet kisses, his tongue tasting a hint of salty because of the sweat.

He didn't know how they got there, his mind was just a blur of memories that had just happened minutes ago. Every time he blinked, something changed—although he was aware of almost everything that was going on. He enjoyed the way Thomas moaned and brushed his fingertips on his bare back. He loved having Thomas exactly like he imagined him in his wildest dreams or fantasies. The way he tasted, the way he smelled, the way his touch was electrifying, it had Dylan breathless and craving for more. But it was like that; every time he blinked, something changed. 

Blink, Dylan was going up to feel Thomas' sweet lips again while taking his pants off. Blink, Thomas was over him unbuttoning his jeans while sinking his teeth into his flesh, which now felt hot and sweaty. Blink, Dylan looked straight into those brown eyes and sobered up for a minute, wondering if Thomas was drunk or not, if he knew what they were doing or if he was going to regret it in the morning. He asked himself if Thomas was capable of realizing about his feelings, of seeing through him and reading his mind, of noticing that he wasn't doing this because of the alcohol; he might be drunk, yes, but he also was being sincere in all his actions.

"Dyl..." Thomas mumbled and Dylan kissed a soft spot on his neck that drove him crazy and made him talk nonsense. Their mouths met again, teeth colliding and tongues fighting, strangled moans coming from the back of their throats. 

It wasn't just lust, it was something deeper, something Dylan had always tried to refrain from, and now it was impossible. His body was doing what his subconscious mind wanted and it was okay, 'cause he wasn't resisting either. The only question lingering inside his head was if Thomas felt the same—and he didn't know how he was able to even think at that state—but he couldn't help it, the insecurity was taking the best of him. He didn't want to be a one night stand to Thomas. Dylan wanted to show him how much he loved him through this honest act, but he kind of feared of not remembering anything the next morning.

He felt his boxers being taken off, the foreign but nice touch of the blonde's hand over his hard member taking him to heaven and back. His eyes rolled back in his head and then he smiled, biting on his lower lip to contain the groans that wanted so desperately to slip through his lips. 

No words were needed and Dylan was glad about that. He opened his eyes and came across Thomas' big chocolate ones, so he stared at them: the desire was visible, but he was praying to find something else inside them, perhaps love. Dylan was praying Thomas could see what he felt as well. 

Thomas' lips connected one more time with Dylan's neck, lips that felt so fucking good to Dylan. That British boy was driving him nuts and he didn't even know it.

"Oh my god..." Dylan whispered and Thomas flashed a little smile that made Dylan feel fascinated. Thomas was pumping up and down his member, and all Dylan could do was have a firm grip of his back and sink his nails into the skin, leaving small red half moon marks that remained there for a few seconds. "F—fuck," he hissed, voice louder.

"Dyl, you've got to be quiet," Thomas murmured softly, a grin plastered on his face. He stopped what he was doing to Dylan down there and Dylan groaned. "We don't want anyone to hear us, do we?"  

In some sort of way, just from hearing Thomas's accent Dylan got more turned on than he was seconds ago. He kissed the blonde hungrily, a sloppy kiss, while Thomas kept working his dick until he got Dylan asking for more.

Things happened really fast, and there were moments where Dylan thought he was dreaming because it was almost surreal. A whole new sensation travelled through his spine, so foreign, and it wasn't exactly pleasure. One of Thomas' fingers was inside of him, feeling like a twinge, really horrible and uncomfortable. Although, from time to time it got better, and after adding another finger he couldn't contain his moans. 

To both of them it was better than they imagined, even if Dylan thought it hurt like hell at first. Thomas tried to be delicate, so careful of not doing any harm and minding Dylan's pleasure rather than his own, so he took his time entering the brunette, the latter noticing and assuring him he was fine. Well, at first, it was a lie because the pain didn't cease... A few minutes later, it was the truth because the pain was replaced by pure pleasure.

"Are you okay?" Thomas asked Dylan near his ear as he stopped moving, caressing one of the legs that were around his torso.

"I'm fine," Dylan answered looking directly into his eyes and nodding.

"Are you su—" 

"Oh my God, Thomas." Dylan laughed, and then brought the boy closer by the neck for a kiss. He also rolled his hips, a very nice feeling that had them moaning almost immediately. "Now, move," he commanded, voice full of lust. 

And so Thomas obeyed. He started thrusting in and out, a so slowly painful rhythm that soon gained speed, and they both wanted to almost scream from pleasure—especially Dylan, since he was the more vocal one. The best of it all was the tenderness, the soft touches, feeling nearly as if they were completing one another.

And it happened that way: blink, Dylan thought he could touch the sky and clouds with his fingertips. Blink. He kissed Thomas one more time, rested his head on the older's chest and thought he couldn't be happier before closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep, a tiny smile upon his lips.


	5. How about now?

A huge headache woke Dylan up. He was sure someone was hammering his head just for fun or something like that, and to make matters worse, the sun was shining brightly outside, its sunrays hitting him straight in the face through the windows—right, he forgot to close the curtains. 

'Wait, why did I forget to close them?' he thought, finding it strange that something he was used to do every night before going to bed, wasn't done now. 

He closed his eyes and groaned because of the pounding headache he was having. With his eyes still closed, he tried to grab the covers to put them over his entire body like an armour that protected him from the horrible and shiny sun, but just when his hands found them, they shifted along the mattress, and it wasn't him the one who moved. He opened his eyes and frowned, wondering what the hell was going on. 

When he rolled over to his side, he saw a naked back, milky soft skin with some moles scattered all over the place. His eyes followed the boy's neck until he came across a head of dirty blonde hair—messy and familiar to him. So it suddenly hit him, and he wasn't so sure of the way he should react. Should he panic? Maybe. Should he wake Thomas up and pretend nothing happened, asking him to leave or something? No, probably he remembered every single thing, besides, it would be kind of stupid to ask him to leave when all Dylan wanted to do was to enjoy the moment.

He moved a little more and looked at Thomas' back, running his fingers so slightly through the blonde's hair so he wouldn't wake him up and ruin the moment. It was exactly what he wanted: Thomas sleeping peacefully on his bed, waking up by his side and the bedroom so quiet—his headache was almost forgotten by the time he realized he felt so content. 

'Did we have sex?' he asked himself and furrowed his eyebrows. Then, the panic emerged again and he stopped playing with Thomas' hair only to lay on his back and fix his eyes on the ceiling. 

What if Thomas didn't want to sleep with him? What if he was drunk as well? Alcohol makes you do crazy stuff like dancing naked, saying things you don't really mean or sleeping with your best friend, so Dylan wouldn't be surprised if Thomas told him it was a mistake. Also, he wouldn't be so surprised if he had to fake it didn't mean a thing to him, so both could agree to pretend nothing happened, even if a lot happened, all for their friendship's sake.

The worst of it all was that Dylan couldn't remember much. All the memories were hazy and it was like watching images through a fogged window, which he couldn't seem to clean, but he was sure they did something. Maybe they'd kissed or... or maybe they'd had sex—just from trying to remember his headache came back and got worse. So he sat at the edge of the bed for a while, decided to put on a pair of clean boxers and once he closed the curtains, much to his relief, he stood next to the window and stared at Thomas from there.

The Brit hadn't moved, not even a bit, and Dylan's brain couldn't stop being so intrigued. Well, he wanted to be optimistic about the situation, although all he could think of was the worst case-scenario like... Thomas rejecting him. No, that wasn't the worst. Thomas telling him he is disgusting or... anything similar just because they slept together and maybe Thomas wasn't gay or bisexual... or maybe he didn't even see Dylan as an exception, although Dylan saw him as one of the greatest exceptions he'd ever made without even choosing to make it.

'No, he's not like that,' he reminded himself. 'He's not going to do that.'

He turned around, and just when he was about to get out of the bedroom, the mattress crunched and Thomas' raspy voice made Dylan stop dead in his tracks at the frame of the door. "Dyl?" 

Dylan faced Thomas, the latter yawning and sitting on the bed. The sheets covered half of his body—Dylan wondered if he was fully naked—leaving his torso in plain view. 

"What?" Thomas asked, a grin on his lips and his eyes sparkling. "Do I have something on my face or...?" 

"Um, no. No, it's just..." Dylan replied, having trouble with the words he wanted to put together in only one sentence. "It's just..." 

"Just...?" 

"Do you remember anything of what happened, um... last night?" Thomas frowned, looking down and back at Dylan again. 

"Do you?" 

"Err... No," Dylan answered, still unsure of his words. "I mean, I... I remember something but..." 

"Oh," was all Thomas said, not letting him finish.

Dylan watched as Thomas looked down again, sighing and licking his lips the way he always did. An awkward silence filled the room and Dylan wanted to end it so badly—he didn't know how, though. 

"I was drunk, wasn't I?" 

"Well, if not remembering anything of what you did last night makes you think that, then you're right," Thomas responded and looked up, dark brown meeting hazel. 

"Were you drunk? Did we... kiss?"

"Um, well..." Thomas scratched the back of his neck and gulped. "Yeah, we kinda snogged here in your bedroom and..."

"But did we... I mean, you and me. Did we have...?" 

"Yes, Dylan," Thomas interrupted mid-sentence. He was feeling sort of impatient and the way Dylan acted made him anxious. "We had sex."

Dylan opened and closed his mouth over and over, but the words just didn't come out, as usual. He hated that part of himself, or he just kind of hated the effect Thomas had in him because it was like his neurons suddenly died, so his body didn't work the way it should. All because Thomas confirmed him that, yes, they slept together. Despite this being, somehow, a positive feeling, it was misunderstood by Thomas, who knitted his eyebrows in confusion and a bit of disappointment.

"Look, we... We can..." Thomas hesitated and got up, searching for his underwear on the floor. He didn't care if Dylan was seeing him naked because he didn't feel exposed or embarrassed at all. "Ugh, where are my fucking briefs," he muttered, looking irritated

"Tom..." Dylan spoke in an attempt to get his attention. His gaze followed Thomas through the room, watching him as he found his underwear and put it on. "Thomas, I—"

"Don't worry, it—it's...Um, It's okay," Thomas stuttered, running a hand through his hair. He started looking for his clothes, avoiding Dylan's gaze, and then quickly put on his pants as he began talking again. "We can forget everything and... And we can pretend it never happened. Nothing happened, yeah," he added while buttoning up his jeans, eyebrows still furrowed, and it was more like he was talking to himself than to Dylan. 

"Thomas, can you—" 

"Leave? Yeah, of course. I'll leave," Thomas said, still looking down and moving around the room with nervousness. "Just let me find my..."

"Oh my god," Dylan mumbled and rolled his eyes. Then he spoke, louder this time. "Thomas, can you please listen to me?" 

Thomas stopped pacing around the room, realizing how he let all those feelings overtake him. His eyes fixed on the brunette's ones and he sighed, letting all the anxiety go away in one breath. 

"I don't want to pretend that anything of this didn't happen, okay?" Dylan stated. "I don't wanna forget either. Well, I wish I could remember more, I swear, but I don't want to forget the few memories that still remain in my brain." 

"Are you sure?" Thomas asked in a whisper, and Dylan got closer. 

"Do you know how long I waited for something like that? I thought... I thought you'd never feel the same way I do," he admitted, a tiny smile upon his face. Then, the smile disappeared and was replaced by a frown. "That's why I got drunk, I wanted to... God, I was so stupid. If it weren't because I—"

"If it weren't because you decided to drink like the world was going to end, I don't think this could've happened," Thomas interrupted him for the third or fourth time in their conversation. This time, Dylan didn't mind.

Thomas got closer, and Dylan wanted to speak, to tell him all he'd been hiding inside him for months, 'cause it was the moment to do it. Nevertheless, he resolved it would be much better to summarize it all in one action. He grabbed Thomas by the waist, the feeling of soft skin under his fingertips being something really nice, and stared straight into those chocolate brown eyes. Finally, Dylan kissed him.

It wasn't like in the movies, where they get closer and closer until their mouths are barely brushing because none of them knows when to take the final next step. No, since Dylan was sober, he wanted to know what it really felt like to kiss Thomas and he just couldn't wait much longer. It was like their real first kiss, at least to Dylan, and he was glad to know he could remember from now on how it was to taste his lips, to explore his mouth, to feel his stomach exploding from the warm feeling inside of it, to smile in between kisses just because the happiness was too much to contain it. 

And they ended up on the bed, kissing, cuddling, losing track of time, wanting to make the day to last forever. The covers were over half of their bodies, their legs intertwined under them, and Dylan leaned his head on Thomas' chest. He listened to his heartbeat, something quite relaxing, and draw imaginary patterns with his fingertips on Thomas' stomach, the smooth skin being such a pleasant feeling. 

"I shouldn't have drunk that much," Dylan spoke after a while, his eyes staring at the wall and then at Thomas' abdomen as he kept caressing the tender flesh. 

"But..." Thomas started, trying to find the words to answer. He ran his hand through Dylan's hair, which was longer than he remembered, and played with it. "You have to look on the bright side: if it wasn't for that, I wouldn't have known about your feelings. Maybe this would've never happened 'cause I have to admit that I was, and still would be, too much of a coward to tell you how much I like you without the fear of being rejected." 

Dylan looked up, staring straight at Thomas' eyes, and the latter took Dylan's hand, interlacing their fingers as he kept talking. 

"If you wouldn't have drunk that much I'd be in my hotel room now or... I'd probably be waking up on your couch. Without you." Dylan wanted to smile at his words 'cause they were just everything he ever wanted to hear from Thomas, but the fact that he couldn't recall what happened made him upset.

"But if it wasn't because I was drunk, I could remember something, you know?" Dylan said, his eyebrows a bit furrowed and his hazel eyes still gazing at Thomas. 

"Why are you so upset about it? 

"I just wanted to remember a moment like that," he replied immediately, resting his head back on Thomas' chest and closing his eyes with a sigh. Thomas stroke his hair and back, gentle touches that made Dylan feel like he was dreaming. 

"Well, y'know... " Thomas broke the silence, making Dylan look up at him one more time. "We can always do it all again if you want to remember. We have plenty of time, so..." 

All Dylan did was laugh, his teeth showing and his eyes lighting up, little wrinkles forming around them, and Thomas couldn't have felt happier. He just felt so lucky to have this man in his life and, finally, in his arms. 

"How about later?" Dylan suggested with an everlasting grin on his lips. Then Thomas surprised him, turning them around and pinning him to the bed, a sweet smile upon his face that made Dylan melt inside. 

"How about now?" Thomas inquired, his voice so soft and lustful at the same time. Dylan giggled and gave him a short kiss on the lips. 

"Guess I'm fine with whatever you want, Tommy."


End file.
